Before the Grand Duchy of Eastern Europe
by Maraytia
Summary: Before Mindaugas was Grand Duke of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, he turns towards natural scenery to help him think when he comes upon something he never expected. Story experimenting on how Lithuania/Toris  was found.


Slowly, the soft pastel sky began to glow with the first light of morning, but the prideful sun had not revealed itself yet. Tired, winking orange and yellow rays stretched themselves awake, while the air was fairly still and lukewarm. Spring had come and gone in mothering the trees to encourage buds to wart and feather out from their brittle little fingers. The ground had softened from its cold, stubborn demeanor by spring as well. Now invasive little hairs of green grew vertically from the damp, cool dirt. It was contagious and seen throughout the land– a land yet to be unified. Nothing in particular was different that morning as Mindaugas awoke. He got up as usual, thinking of what needed to be done. The surrounding neighbors were as persistent as ever trying to take over the Baltic tribes and Christianizing the area, but the tribes had come to realize they must band together to protect their independence. There was much to be done. Something had to come through, and Mindaugas was confident he could gain it. More blood would have to run by his hands– it didn't matter. Anything to gain the power to push his enemies back, no one had better ambition than he. The gradually alliance forming Baltic tribes in the area needed a leader, too.

Morta, his wife, ambled about the house and spied on him carefully. Her face was hard and emotionless, as a proper lady would show little expression. Her eyes _did_ shimmer even with the smallest interest of what Mindaugas wished to do for today. She was bound to him, whether she wanted to be or not. Her interest was truly nonchalant with a bitter hint, but nonetheless it was interest. After a moment of thought, Mindaugas thought he should wander beneath the ancient trees to rethink his strategy. For some reason it felt a little stuffy inside the home and this was a chance to indulge in the outdoors peacefully. He pivoted towards his still, over watching wife and told her where he would be. Morta said nothing, only bowing her head a little.

"It won't be long," Mindaugas reassured as he smiled a little. Lately he had been nothing but a stern face. Morta didn't seem touched or give a hint of contempt. Mindaugas took a sturdy, confident step outside.

Mindaugas stole himself a deep, soul-reaching breath of the fresh smells of the earth and sky. Crisp air gave the Lithuanian duke mind a clear conscious so he may think clearly without feeling blinded in the mind's eye. He loved the way it smelled out here when there was a mild chill and dew still lingered on the sturdy stalks of grass. The whole world was dead silent and not a soul moved. Only the able horse in the stable gave a gander at his master with the most curious of looks in his eyes. The burring steed watched as the duke meandered away. Mindaugas figured he could go to his favorite spot near the river and listen to the water giggle as it licked the pebbles and gently clawed the riverside. He wasn't used to this kind of silence, especially now. It made him feel a little uneasy. Moss grew rather freely, crawling up the north face of the towering branches. Standing on the ground, it really did look like trees were the only things holding up the sky in their strong arms like children holding a bed sheet over their heads. It a sense of security for those who knew these woods well. For people who travel and come from cities or very exposed, flat terrain, they would tremble at these woods. The little caterpillar, hurrying itself along a wide leaf did not mind. To strangers, the trees seem like monsters with subtle sharp claws waiting to pluck them off their path. Mindaugas had no reason to fear the usually gentle barked creatures of the forest. It was the paranoia of what may be hiding behind them that bothered him every now and then making him cautious of his steps every once in a while. Small woodland creatures raced across the ground and spiraled up the trees in a chatter. Birds buzzed past and gave a merry little song that contrasted heavily against the silence of the woods.

He was almost there. It would take another short time before Mindaugas would reach his desired destination. Just around these set of trees and he should be–

A mysterious sound shattered the silence of the forest. Mindaugas turned his head towards the direction of the strange sound. How strange the cry was to him. It wasn't necessarily the middle of nowhere, where he was but it was a strange enough place to hear a baby crying. Perhaps it was a trick? Was it a lonely sounding siren hoping to lure his soul into a trap? Or a monster that made such awful cries when it senses someone is near? The Lithuanian duke simply turned his head away, not having any desire to investigate what made such a sad cry. Before he could take another step, the hollering grew even louder and more desperate. Mindaugas searched the area in his view again to see if the monster had crept up on him. He saw nothing. Hesitantly, he forced himself to creep around and see whatever made the somewhat annoying cry. It got louder and louder until he could pinpoint where all the commotion was coming from. Mindaugas came to a small clearing in the trees, where it seems they have spread for him to pass. Just on the other side of the clearing was a fine patch of grass that seemed to have something hidden within the lavish green ribbons. Still, the crying pursued. The sound of it now raked Mindaugas' ears with irritation, making his head pound– but now he was too close to finding the cause to stop here. Monster or mythological being, he tensed to prepare himself. Mindaugas parted the grass with determination to silence whatever caused the irritating ring in his ear, only to be once again surprised of his discovery. Nestled by the surrounding grass was a little creature whose face was plump and round, leaking with hot tears. The expression was twisted in a sorrowful howl upon its neglection, little eyes clamped shut in protest. A little chest heaved for air to continue its sad wail. Upon its head, there was as much hair as there was trees in the forest while the color of the very source that makes them grow. Silky dark hair was slightly matted from the wet floods it shed, nose also moist from all of its crying. The little body hardly squirmed, but then again, perhaps it didn't know how– it certainly was no monster or mythical creature. It was simply a baby, dressed in a simple, immaculately white baby shirt.

Now Mindaugas was in quite a shock and had an even bigger problem. He would have preferred that his find was a horrible, grotesque beast prowling about. The duke could have dealt with that, but a baby? The gods were mocking him now. What can he do with an orphan child? Once or twice, the child actually opened its eyes, though they were still flooded and wet. Mindaugas would catch hints of the bright, lush emerald irises at the time before it presumed it's helpless fussing. The duke would cringe as it did so, still refusing to have anything to do with it. He gazed around carefully and called out to the ever-galloping woods to see if someone would respond and retrieve the baby. Only the silent moaning of the trees replied to him. There was no one to claim the lost infant. Mindaugas thought of just walking away since he felt it was really none of his business, and once again tried to leave. Something weighed him down however, and he actually felt his heart queasy with guilt. He cursed himself and tried to will his legs to move far away and to forget he ever encountered the child.

"It is a woman's job to raise a child, not mine," Mindaugas grimaced. "I don't have time for this."

The baby gave a little coughing sound, choking on the mixture of saliva and salty tears. The small creature whimpered next as if to climax back to what it had been doing, but such reaction lagged, as it was growing tired of crying. If all the he was going to do was fuss and holler his little soul out, he will likely die from deprivation of affection and care. Either that, or a wolf will come by and devour him. Mindaugas gave a deep, defeated breath and turned back towards the clump of grass where his problem lied. He normally wasn't one to be so soft as he was now. There was much yet to be completed in order for him to successfully complete what he started, but the unfamiliar feeling of being unable to turn away snared the Lithuanian duke all too well. Mindaugas bent over to retrieve the baby from the grass nest and picked him up a little awkwardly, for the duke has never held a baby before. Through watery eyes, the child stared at Mindaugas. Now Mindaugas could see clearly how pure the jade gleam was in those small round eyes. The color was unrealistically bright and clear (despite that its eyes were half closed and tears still gathered at the corners). Of course they were overflowing with untainted innocence despite the overwhelming sadness in them. The child didn't know why he was alone in the woods, abandoned and unwanted. All it could tell is that it didn't want to be alone. Mindaugas saw it clearly. He also noticed that those tiny emerald slivers reminded him of the land he lived in– the land he wanted to unite. They reflected the vast fields over the gentle rolling lands and the majestic looming wilderness within the forests easily. The land's fairly flourishable lands seemed to be represented in the child's chocolate toned hair. It was very ironic.

So far he hasn't cried again, much to Mindaugas' relief. He willed himself to bring the toddler more securely to his chest, like what he has seen mothers do. To Mindaugas it felt like trying to fit a three-sided shape through a four-sided hole. He still was not used to holding something so small, especially not like so. It was too feminine, however, he promised to not drop the tiny creature he now possessed under his wing. Mindaugas thought to himself now about if he should give him a name. He gave it much thought and came up with various names. None seemed to really fit. During the passing time of deep thought, the little infant Mindaugas held could only gaze up intriguingly. His little eyes seemed to have dried up from the fountain of tears as his mind detoured to examining the elder man's face. From the wisdom in the man's powerful eyes to the bristly hairs of his beard, small lashes blinked at what they saw. Was this man going to take him home? He wasn't sure. All he could do is lay there, watching– waiting to see what would happen next. At least he didn't feel quite so lonely anymore...

"Lietava," Mindaugas said quietly. Something clicked in his mind and he said it again, only more surely. "Lietava."

Slightly entertained by the movement of the duke's lips and rumbling voice, the dark haired child made a noise half between a whimper and a soft coo. Something sparkled in those little green pools, and Mindaugas looked down at him. The Lithuanian duke was thinking of the stream that he knew of that was called Lietava, that flowed into the Neris River. It was the only name out of about half of a dozen others that sounded right, or rather just about right. Even the one he cradled in his arms seemed to agree. The sun flew higher now, banishing the shadows into the darkest of holes or deepest of cracks. It was soothingly warm on Mindaugas' shoulder. The forest became livelier too. More birds were twittering away and woodland animals were more active. Then it hit him. He knew what to call the child and turned back towards him to confirm that it fitted in every way possible.

"Lietuva," he spoke soft, but firmly. "Your name will be Lietuva."

Lietuva looked as though he was being sent asleep in Mindaugas' arm due to the generous heat of the rising sun. He didn't seem to pay much attention to Mindaugas due to his exhaustion and instead nuzzled into the noble's clothing so the white wall behind his eyelids wouldn't blind him. Mindaugas didn't mind too much, although he was embarrassed by the action. He knew he had to get home before the child could have a chance to start crying again and the sound of a baby's cry is no better than the devil sharpening his claws on steel. The duke knew he would have to wait for another opportunity to go out peacefully again and aimed back for home.

The day couldn't get any stranger. While Mindaugas hastily walking back to the house, a furry four-legged creature with lanky legs and a tail halted him in his tracks. A slender muzzle and two large ears jutted out from the face, as it stayed situated and alone. It was the largest of any of them Mindaugas has ever seen! He took a cautious step back. The wild animal didn't move to flee or attack, and just stayed where it was, glaring at him. Did it want the baby? No, it wasn't looking at the baby. Its dark eyes were clearly burrowing into the eyes of Mindaugas, like they were the only two in the world. With both expressions equally blank, the silence was shattered when the beast rose its slender head in a long, deafening howl. Within moments, he was joined by the voices of many others, all having surrounded the Lithuanian duke. The vocalization the numerous unseen animals made did not sound mournful or threatening. Their voices were filled with the shear force of a frigid snowstorm, calling clear into the heavens almost endlessly. It was the call of a thousand wolves. Mindaugas has had quite enough and thrust himself forward defensive, loud grunt before yelling at the wolf in front of him to be gone. The wolf merely stared before backing off and fleeing into the woods, but the rest of the chorus still rang clearly throughout the forest. Mindaugas didn't want anymore to do with the strange phenomena and hurried faster than ever back to his home in thinking if he didn't move now, the whole forest would be out to get him. With all the rough bouncing, Lietuva awoke in his arms and begun to cry. He had no idea what was happening or why he was being shaken so violently from his peaceful sleep, but the man holding him took no mind and kept looking back to make sure he wasn't being hunted. Mindaugas didn't slow his pace until a familiar building came into sight, and he could see the gates. Morta was outside, tending to the horse. Her alert eyes skimmed around, as she too heard the sound of the wolves. Mindaugas called out to her and she whipped around to see her husband had returned.

"Morta!"

"Mindaugas."

The howling had stopped and all that remained in disturbing the silence was a baby's cry. Morta spied on the small life in her husband's arms that bawled. She gasped before ferociously eyeing him suspiciously. Where had this child come from? What had he been doing while he was gone? A bitter tingle rippled on the back of Morta's tongue. She waited patiently for an answer, as it was clear Mindaugas obviously had to explain himself. Her husband shyly looked down the child before facing his wife again.

"I found him alone in the woods," Mindaugas explained. "There was no one to claim him."

Morta didn't look convinced and looked the child over. The little thing was a mess with it's scrambled brown hair and scrunched round face. Whether she believed her husband or not, Morta disapproved of the child's current state. She took a bold step forward closer to her husband.

"Give him to me," Morta demanded at a tone she naturally made sure did not overthrow Mindaugas' authority. Mindaugas complied easily. The noblewoman secured her hand under the little one's head and body as the duke handed him over. Morta began to bob the upset child while rocking her slender supporting arms at the same time to sooth the sobbing mess.

"His name is Lietuva," Mindaugas added quietly as he took a quick look of his surroundings. "Come, we should get inside."

Morta nodded, keeping her fair eyes only on little Lietuva, who began to settle down. She wasn't sure what to believe on where the child came from, but she knew that god forbid she let this child go without proper care. Morta was a woman after all. It was her job to take care of the young. At least, that was the norm several centuries ago. She didn't mind. For the short time it was, she enjoyed caring for the mysterious child her husband had brought home one early summer day, and as time passed, Lietuva grew into a fine young man, sometimes timid and often brave. He had to mature fast, and learn battle tactics as more battles raged on between the Baltics and their neighbors. Many would think it is odd such a small kid like Lietuva was could even fight, but nonetheless went with it. He was a seemingly immortal soul that walked the earth, carrying all the misery and scars of the country, which he was born to represent.


End file.
